


Devils Work in Pairs

by aehosun



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Fluff and Angst, Haha we love pain and crying, How Do I Tag, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minecraft, Pain, Prison, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aehosun/pseuds/aehosun
Summary: Devils work alone, but better in pairs.No one expected the person who sleeps constantly  to be the mastermind behind Dream’s escape.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 96





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SummerFlingsAndThings (QueenBoudicatheGreat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudicatheGreat/gifts).



> This work was inspired by @summerflingsandthings! Please go check out their work, A King’s Gambit.  
> This is my first time writing a fic and posting it so I really hope you guys enjoy!!!

The room was lit by the weak purple glow underneath the black walls, a material capable of maintaining heat. And yet, solidarity has surfaced a different type of cold. Dark walls surround one living soul, lying in the midst of it all. 

Days blur together, and he stares at the ticking clock with no potent emotion. The previous sun-kissed skin has now shifted into a state of winter, and strength that could once wield powerful weapons with confidence can now barely lift a pen to document tea-stained memories. Once awaken upon the hard ground, a groan of discomfort and the voice of cracking bones travels throughout the place.

Curiosity flickers as he watches the walls fall down and the veil of lava opens to a trembling figure, and close behind the shaking body, there stands the warden, Sam, wearing a dark green gas mask and heavy weaponry, leading a blue cloaked George to Dream’s personal hell. Sam lowers himself to whisper into George’s ear and a slow nod follows, he walks away, leaving George and Dream alone with nowhere to flee. Dream stares right at Sam’s glare and does so until Dream is staring at nothing but a barricade of molten, glowing rocks.

Repositioning his gaze towards the hunched figure, the tremors were turned into maniacal laughter. George straightens his back and allows his gaze to land consequently to the chained criminal on the ground. “Hello there, stranger.” The sides of his lips twist into something mischievous. “You do feel like a stranger. I don’t remember who you are anymore?” George paces his steps, placing one foot in front of the other, casting a shadow upon Dream.

“The Dream I know wouldn’t get caught and locked up in this super-prison. Although, chains look good on you.” Dream barks out a laugh and throws his head backward and hits the wall. George snickers at Dream’s groan of pain as he lowers himself into the chained man’s lap and removing the porcelain mask. Dream lifts his tethered hands, allowing George to situate himself into the masked man’s arms. “Couldn’t be helped, especially when someone was sleeping throughout my entire capture.” George hums in thought while Dream presses his nose against the pale neck in front of him. 

“That’s your punishment for blowing up the Community House, which was quite unnecessary,” a sigh escapes the brunette as Dream leaves soft kisses along the nape of the man on top of him. George angles himself to face Dream and punches him across the face, a bright red mark awaking in its glory. Turning his face to stare at the male in his lap, Dream bites out, “what the hell was that for?” Faintly, lips press against the angry crimson mark on his cheek, and George turns back around and sinks into Dream’s broad chest. “That was from Drista. Called you colorful words, but your pretty face got hurt and I don’t want to do more harm.” 

“As if you could do more damage,” Dream scoffs and rests his chin on the fluffy cape. The fur tickling Dream’s nose, he whines, “why are you wearing such a heavy coat. It shouldn’t be winter until a few more weeks.” Unable to see the eye roll from the slim man, George crosses his arms and replies, “it has been winter for the past 2 weeks. Might I remind you, you’ve been inside a box with no sense of weather or seasons. I should also include, it has been fucking snowing, and you weren’t there to help warm me up.

George could feel the shaking body behind him and elbows Dream’s stomach. “How long is Sam letting you stay in here for?” George sighs and wraps his slender hands around Dream’s forearms, which were painted in snowy rivers full of stories. “He won’t show up back until I call for him, but even then I can’t remain for long without raising suspicion. The entire world thinks I’m sulking, nursing my crushed heart caused by your blazing trail of greed and hunger.” A groan of annoyance fills the room and George turns around to see Dream laughing silently. 

Without a moment to spare, a second chorus of laughter accompanies the first, filling the dark with brilliant light. Silence follows and quiet peace fills in the void of the lonely soul as it was finally touching its mirrored half. No longer split apart by labyrinths, the two floating lights combine and become one again, warming each other in the dark. Sweet kisses pass between them and they both find temporary peace. But the world advances without care, the walls of the labyrinth move in intricate patterns, and forcefully separating the souls that cry out for the other. Short-lived was bliss and the prickling cold snuffles the burning light. The walls continued to crawl to the sky until it could not climb anymore. With towering walls and the nearly extinguished light, the two souls separated. The next fated meet cannot be predicted. What bliss, which was killed quickly.

In the silence, George leans further into Dream and whispered an impossible promise. Foreheads pressed against each other, George lingers on their short-lived kiss and promises; he promises, he swears that he’ll get Dream out. “Then get me out supernova.”

Dream doesn’t think George will take him out alone and alive, but that’s not what they need to hear. “The next time you see me, it’ll be the same day you see the sky. Until then, don’t miss me too much, and get back into shape while you’re still in here. I demand you at your best when I bring you out.” Dream places a hand over his heart and says, “your love is too extreme for me.” George scoffs and extracts himself from the powerful arms that held him. 

George rises and fixes his cape and looks at Dream one last time before facing the wall of magma. Screaming from the top of his lungs, George calls for Sam to get him out. The curtain opens and Dream laughs maniacally at George and screams, “you can never run from me forever! I’ll constantly be in your mind whether you deny it! I am always there with you and you can’t escape!” George stands tall and grabs Sam’s arm for support. Turning his head over his shoulders, the male cooly says, “rot in Phlegethon, you mortal bastard.” Dream catches the subtle wink before George turns back forward. 

With that, the lava collapsed, and the walls rise. A brief encounter was all they needed to plan and start getting things into the motions. Newly lit, determination fills the two, and delirious joy bubbles within them. The world will never stop, but that doesn’t mean that they will let time consume them.


	2. Mother’s Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother’s heart will last a storm brought down by the gods.

A fortnight has passed since he had company, and now Dream listens to the machines whirring to life and lies patiently for the grand reveal of his anonymous visitor. Lava slips away and piercing blue eyes stare at the masked blond. With pride and confidence, Puffy courses with the operating bridge towards the sole prisoner. From his spot, Dream rises and shuffles towards Puffy cautiously, anxious of encountering another hallucination.

Hands tremble and with an unsteady voice, Dream inquires, “mama?” Once she got off the bridge safely, black barriers dropped and so did Dream. Many people won’t notice. But through his mask, Dream saw Puffy’s eyes waver. He crawls across the grimy ground and grabs a hold of Puffy’s lower pant leg. And her eyes traveled to the man she previously called her own and stared as he wept hysterically.

“Mama,” he cried out, hopelessly wondering if his eyes betray him again. The confident exterior dissolves as the blond man returns to a boy. “Please tell me you’re real? I can’t take this anymore. I just want to feel your hugs again, I don’t think I can take it if this is fake too!” Tears fall and his grip tightens, fearing if he has gone insane?

With grace, the sheep hybrid lowers herself to match Dream’s eyes and with every crime he's done, deep down in her soul she still recalls him as her little duckling, her companion that accompanied her here and there and did everything she did. Puffy pushed herself to harden her heart to the sobbing man for the people he troubled, hearts that were crushed, countries that were ruined, bonds that were broken, and strikes him across his face with enough force to knock off the mask. “I am very real.”

Eyes wide, Dream whips his head, facing Puffy. A broken grin appears on his face. “You’re not fake.” In clear disbelief, Dream moves to hug his former maternal figure, pleading for physical touch. Shocked by the sudden embrace, Puffy stumbles and catches herself before falling to the ground. She situates herself so that Dream is now whimpering in her lap, still holding onto her.

Puffy recalls the previous time Dream broke down like this. It was the day she discovered him. He was racing out of the woods with shredded and worn-out clothes, his hair was murky brown and roughly around his waist at the time. The torn pants showed cuts and bruises covering his pale legs, which shook and barely maintained in keeping the child upright. She scurried over and checked on the young boy and wondered why he was so battered up and broken. Puffy shook off her coat and draped it around the delicate shoulders that weakened from the bitter wind and hugged him in a tight hold. In her embrace, the juvenile boy trembled as a breaking sob erupted from his lips, tears picking up dirt as it streamed down his messy face. He grasped onto her and begged for forgiveness. She knew it wasn’t for her, but she answered his desperate cry and took him home.

Puffy glanced down and noticed the same broken look that begged for forgiveness and a home. A sigh escapes her lips as she strokes Dream’s hair, waiting for the onslaught of tears to settle down. Once the sobs calmed down, a soft voice inquired, “why did you do it?”

Dream lifts his face and with a null voice, he announces, “they told me to mama.” Dream’s response leaves Puffy tilting her head and scrunching her eyebrows in confusion. “Voices? You never mentioned this to me. Is it like Techno and Philza?” Shaking his now shaggy hair, Dream replies, “Not voices, God and the Demon.”

Unlike Techno and Philza, Dream didn’t have voices in his mind, but he saw otherworldly beings, and they claimed themselves as DREAMXD and Dreamon. The pair chose those names after the mortal that caught them in the woods at a young age. The 2 entities established him as their host and remained with him, sharing powers but merely appearing on certain occasions. Of course, George and Techno learned about this years ago, but the others on the server don’t realize the association between the three. More recently, the two creatures pursued their work through other individuals and the Egg to achieve their objective. Restoring the ruined timeline.

Shaking her head again, Puffy scowls and scolds the boy. “You should have never listened to them, look at where you are now.” Dream hides his face into her lap once more and mutters, “I know, and I tried so hard, but they just wouldn’t leave me alone. I felt like I was insane.” Puffy could feel the taller male tremor and tightening his hold on her crimson jacket, and she sighed, relaxing her shoulders and caving in. No matter how dreadful his actions were, no matter how many reports reached her ears, Puffy begged that this wasn’t her boy that she grew to love. She begged for the fates to wake her up from their cruel humor and for her sweet child to come back to her. But fate will forever laugh callously at the feeble mortals they control under their fingers. “Dream, you hurt many people on this server and led to tons of damage. Forgiveness is not a simple thing. This is your punishment and you need to accept that knowledge.”

Muffled, Dream responds, “I know, I don’t expect mercy, but people still deserve an apology.” Puffy reached to caress the blond’s hair and wondered if somewhere in the future Dream could apologize and help start the path of healing for them. But for now, imprisoning him is the best for everyone. 

A sign escapes Puffy’s lips as she tenderly lifts Dream's head up to look at her. Drying the tears away, Puffy examined the blooming red slap mark on his freckled face. Drawing his cheek closer, Puffy carefully brushed against a fading bruise.

“Mama, can you sing me that song when I was a kid. I can’t sleep anymore.”

Puffy wished she could say no, to tell him to suffer in his guilt, but seeing the look in his eyes, her heart softened and a gentle humming filled the hollow room. After a few silent moments, Puffy could feel the male slump and his easy breathing. She took this as her cue to leave and stood carefully, trying not to rouse the blond. The sheep-hybrid wanted to leave her coat, but she knew better and called out for Sam, assuring him that Dream was sleeping and not knocked out.

Walking out of the prison, Puffy couldn’t shake off the newly found information about Dream and the 2 entities. She wished to help in getting rid of them, but she knew that they’re stuck with him for the long run.

Sam leads her out of the eerie prison and gives her a nod of understanding. On her quest back home, she stumbles across a tiny figure resting by the water where the Community House once stood in warmth and glory. Gliding across the wooden bridge, Puffy encounters George carelessly kicking his feet and staring at the ripples in the water.

“You doing alright there?” George shifts his attention and glances towards the woman standing next to him. Shrugging his shoulders, George mindlessly glances back at the now still water. Murmuring quietly, “am I a terrible person for wishing the old Dream back?” Puffy sits down next to the lad and hums a response. “No, but I don’t think it’ll be healthy to hold on to that image. He’ll never be the same.” Watching tears spill from George’s eyes softened Puffy’s heart. She understood too. She cared for Dream as her son with her entire heart, but now she could never fully forgive him for hurting the surrounding people.

Gently, she wraps her arms around the silent male next to her and squeezes his shoulders. George leans softly against her, finding warmth, and cries quietly. “I miss him.” Puffy tenderly kisses the weeping boy’s forehead in an attempt to calm his sorrow. “I know, but now that he’s locked up, he can’t hurt anyone.”

Puffy’s comment seemed to cause George more anguish as he twisted to cry into her shoulder. “I just want him to hold me again.”

“He will never be released from confinement, but I believe there is some hope for his future.” Puffy stroked George’s hair just like she did for Dream moments ago. “I visited him right before finding you.” She drew in a deep breath and cautiously confessed, “he was breaking down with remorse. He looked like a kid again. In his eyes, I saw my baby boy. Isn’t that horrible of me? After everything he did, I still saw my son and my heart weakened.” Puffy looks at George’s eyes and adds, “You are not a terrible person for missing something that was good. But you cannot wish for light in someone who burned his fire to live in the dark.”

George nods solemnly and detaches himself from Puffy’s arms. “Tommy won’t let anybody visit him twice, right?” Laughing weakly, George rises, dries his feet, and slides on his shoes. “I think I’m going to make my way home and go to sleep. Thank you for being here, Puffy. When we were younger, Dream would constantly talk about how wonderful you were.” With his departure, Puffy felt a small weight of guilt lift from her soul. She could sleep easier at night that day knowing she tried her best to support and raise Dream, and it wasn’t completely her fault for leading him to this path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idky but this chapter was super hard to write. Writing in a different style is def not my thing but for the plot I must.


	3. Warmth of a Setting Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laughter erupts from the pair as the plants sway with the breeze as if the earth was laughing in glee.
> 
> “I love you.” Stunned, George looks up and discovers that he wasn’t in the field anymore. There was no setting sun to warm his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm, so you guys should check the tag rq before you continue reading. I didn’t expect the fic to end like this, but the way I was setting it up. I’m sorry I love angst too much. Kithes for u

It’s warm. George sits up and stares at the golden fields enveloping him and a distant laugh captures his attention and he seeks the source of bliss. Tossed carelessly, sandy blond hair moved with the body’s shaking laughter that swelled and untamed joy within him. George never understood colors as others did, his world was full of blue and yellow and he admired the color blue, but at that moment, the serene sapphire blue could not compete with the blinding golden yellow which filled his vision. 

The said blond turned over and grinned blinding at the brunet and George stared at the freckles sprinkled across his face like stars in the sky and scars that join them together. The setting sunlight warmed his skin, but the radiating male warmed George from the inside out. George cups the face of the boy laying down softly and full of love and beams at the warmth of his skin. Leaning into his pale hands, the freckled boy kisses George’s wrist tenderly before dragging him down and kissing his face all over. Laughter erupts from the pair as the plants sway with the breeze as if the earth was laughing in glee.

“I love you.” Stunned, George looks up and discovers that he wasn’t in the field anymore. There was no setting sun to warm his skin. And instead, the same golden boy now rests on the burnt ground. George struggles to rush towards the body, for there were bars of steel blocking and separating them. Ash clouded his vision as he watched the yellow liquid run down the blond’s skin. George understood the male was shedding blood, but to him, the freckled boy looked like a god bleeding ichor. The world grew dim and the bitter wind blew as if the universe was howling at their cruel fate.

A whisper leaves George’s lips as he begs to the sky, “I love you.” It’s cold.

George wakes up in a cold sweat as he feels someone or something brush his face. He scans the room for confirmation of his suspicions but was met with an empty room and an empty bed. The snow frosts against his window as the sun is swallowed by grey clouds.

With no time to waste, George arises from the bed and works his way through the mud to Dream’s hidden base underground. The place was covered in dust due to inactivity and notes comprised the floors and walls. Starting his search, George organizes the cluster of papers on Dream’s desk, and while looking for blueprints of the prison that Dream and Sam used to send each other, George watches an object fall from in between the stack of documents he picked up. Curious, he stoops down and reaches for an old withered ring made of grass. George grins at the once vibrant green ring and pockets it.

They were in a field almost like the one from his dreams. George was 12 at the time and was awaiting Sapnap and Dream to arrive so they could venture across the river. While waiting, George plucked some grass and created rings for the three of them to wear. Sapnap laughed at George but slid the ring on and Dream wore the biggest grin and held his hand towards the sky. One day, Sapnap ran to George crying that he lost it while working on chores for Puffy and Dream, George never learned what Dream did with the ring. Now, George smiles to himself as he lightly touches his pocket.

When George finally finds the report of the prison’s interior, the snowing had ceased and the sun was setting. Glancing back at the room one last time, George closed the doors and rushed home so that he could begin reviewing the design of the complex prison. The house that George built while he was king stood alone in the world. The lights were off, but the door was creaked open. Suspicion rose in George as he stuffed the papers into his bag and grasped his sword.

George carefully steps towards the creaked entrance and pushes the dark oak door completely open, simply to reveal a figure hovering in the middle of his home. “Who the hell are you?”

The circular head, dressed in green robes accented with white and embellished with tassels and chains, spins and faces George who raises his sword higher and snarls, “Well? Who the fuck are you?”

“I ᔑᒲ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ⊣𝙹↸ 𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ᓭᒷ∷⍊ᒷ∷ ᔑリ↸ i ∷⚍ꖎᒷ ᔑꖎ𝙹リ⊣ᓭ╎↸ᒷ ᒲ|| 𝙹!¡!¡𝙹ᓭ╎ℸ ̣ ᒷ ⍑ᔑꖎ⎓. Y𝙹⚍ ᔑ∷ᒷ ꖎ╎リꖌᒷ↸ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ 𝙹⚍∷ ⍑𝙹ᓭℸ ̣ , ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ⎓𝙹∷ᒷ ∴ᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷ ꖎ╎リꖌᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ||𝙹⚍.” George scrunches his eyebrows and grips the leather handle of his netherite sword tighter. “You speak in the same language as Ranboo, are you from the end realm?” The entity twists its head and drifts closer to George and pressed its cold white finger against George’s forehead and speaks again. “I’m not from the end realm, I am the end realm.” Questions filled George’s brain and before he could utter a word, the mysterious being evaporated in a flash.

A sigh escapes from George and he sheds off the blue fur coat and drops his bag and weapon onto the wooden ground. He rests on top of his messy bed from this morning. With limited amounts of energy, George forces himself to grab his leather bag and draw out the papers he retrieved from Dream’s base. Pulling out more paper and ink, George lights a lantern and makes notes of the various passages and entrances that were documented on the report. George thought up as many scenarios as possible, but they all lead to the same conclusion. George and Dream get caught somehow and they both either end up dead or locked up.

Wonderful, George thought as he tugged one of the wooden slabs up and revealed a concealed compartment. Hiding away his notes and the design of the prison, George undresses and climbs into bed, and drowns himself within his blankets in order to keep himself warm. The winter wind slams into the wooden door and an icy draft waltz into George’s home. Cursing under his breath, “for fuck’s sake, Dream better fuck me to hell and heaven after I bust him out,” George pulls up the covers over his head.


End file.
